


Drabble Dump 6

by InuShiek



Series: Inu's Drabbles [9]
Category: MTMTE - Fandom, The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Bondage, Collars, Dom/sub, F/M, Feeding Kink, Femdom, Flexibility, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Leashes, M/M, Masochism, Massage, Master/Pet, Master/Servant, Multiple Orgasms, NSFW, Oral, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Pet Names, Pet Play, Praise Kink, Safeword Use, Service Submission, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slash, Spanking, Sticky, Teasing, Tentacles, Topping from the Bottom, Toys, Training, Weapons Kink, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6007510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InuShiek/pseuds/InuShiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lots of drabbles from prompts on tumblr (I got behind, so there are a lot here)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble Dump 6

**Author's Note:**

> A loooooooooooooooooooooooot of drabbles

"Shh, I'm going to keep you safe." Starscream/Optimus...if possible? thank you!

 

\----------

This is bad.

Optimus had been forced to surrender himself to the Decepticons in order to free his Autobots who had been captured during the previous battle. 

It had seemed like an easy choice, until he’d found himself in the bring and surrounded by the highest ranking Decepticons, all of them obviously eager to tear chunks out of him. 

Luckily(?), Megatron had had all of his troops leave, no doubt a ploy to have Optimus Prime’s processors spinning with possible torture scenarios. Megatron _would_ be the type to let Optimus work himself up before anyone even touched him.

The door of the brig opens, and Optimus nearly flinches. Apparently Megatron’s ploy is already working-

“You self-sacrificing idiot.”

Optimus isn’t sure if he should relax or tense further at the familiar voice. On neutral ground, he and Starscream have been slowly building a relationship of sorts.

This is far from neutral ground.

Optimus remains quiet as Starscream enters his cell, and the seeker slowly circles him from his bound position in the middle of the floor.

“You _are_ in a tight spot, aren’t you?” Starscream says, reaching out to trace a claw up along the length of a finial.

This time Optimus _does_ flinch.

“Shh, I’m going to keep you safe. I can keep Megatron busy,” Starscream murmurs quietly, even as one of his servos threatens to wrap around the Prime’s neck. “At least long enough for your Autobots to ‘discover’ your location…. And I expect you to do that thing with your glossa the next time we bump into each other. Understood?”

Optimus relaxes. “Understood.”

* * *

"That's it, keep cumming." Nautica/Megatron

\----------

Megatron grunts with a mix of pain and pleasure. Nautica’s pede is planted on his spike just shy of too hard.

Dancing that line between pain and pleasure is what she’s best at, and she uses that to her full advantage every time they meet up like this.

“What was that?” Nautica asks, wrapping Megatron’s leash around her fist once more, tightening her hold even further.

Megatron hesitates for just a moment, briefly considering a smart remark before he thinks better of it. “May I have more?” he asks instead, his frame quivering beyond his control as his overload nears. The femme just makes her dominance seem so effortless-

“How polite,” Nautica says with a smirk before she carefully braces and balances herself. “Go for it.”

That’s nearly enough for him to overload, but with permission he can now thrust his spike up against the underside of her pede. It’s only a few moments before he overloads, and he nearly chokes when Nautica steps harder onto his spike.

“That’s it, keep cumming,” she orders, wriggling her pede from side to side. She holds tightly onto the leash, forcing Megatron to continue staring at her as his overload drags out.

* * *

“Shush, let the doctor do his work.” TFP OptiRatch.

 

\----------

With Ratchet nearly in recharge, Optimus strikes.

He rolls the medic onto his front, and Optimus moves to straddle Ratchet’s aft. Even almost asleep, Ratchet is tense.

“What are you doing?” Ratchet mumbles, confused and tired.

“Helping you relax,” Optimus explains simply before he gently applies his servos to Ratchet’s plating. He gently kneads the armor plates until the tension cables underneath relax enough for him to sneak his digits underneath and really get to work.

“I don’t _need_ to relax,” Ratchet protests even as his plating begins to flare out to allow easier access.

“Shush, let the doctor do his work,” Optimus teases gently.

“ _I’m_ the doctor,” the bot grouses, but the attention is having an effect on him…..more specifically his valve. “Besides, keep that up and you’ll have more to attend to.”

Optimus smiles. He can feel Ratchet’s frame beginning to heat up with building arousal. Still, the medic is tense, so Optimus gently applies pressure to Ratchet’s spinal strut.

All of the joints pop, and Ratchet cries out as an ache he hadn’t realized was there becomes a sharp sting and then quickly fades to bliss. “Forget the valve. Do _that_ again,” he pants into the berth.

* * *

"I'm so proud of you." Rodimus and Starscream? Preferably Star bottoming but still dom. I just.. They both love fragging and have thick thighs. It's perfect.

\----------

“Don’t forget my spike.”

Rodimus stops, blinking in confusion at Starscream. How can he….? His servos are cuffed behind him and he’s supposed to be spiking Starscream’s valve. There’s no way for him to do anything with the spike-

“Did I say you could stop thrusting?” Starscream asks threateningly, and he purrs when Rodimus quickly resumes moving his hips. It’s obvious that his processors are spinning trying to formulate a plan to stimulate Starscream’s spike at the same time, though.

Frowning in concentration, Rodimus shifts from his deep, quick thrusts to more shallow and smooth ones. Starscream doesn’t reprimand him, curious. It takes some shuffling and a bit of a strain, but Rodimus manages to curl forward enough that he can actually wrap his mouth around the tip of Starscream’s spike and suck.

“Goooooood, Rodimus. I’m so proud of you,” Starscream praises, honestly surprised that the mech managed the feat.

* * *

TFP KO/SS "Ooh, I love it when you squeeze around me."

\----------

Groaning, Starscream relies on Knock Out to maneuver his exhausted frame on the berth. For now, Knock Out has him lying on his front with his aft propped up by a pillow. Starscream has lost count of his overloads and he’s honestly not sure how many more he can take, but Knock Out is still going strong.

Knock Out grinds his spike deep into Starscream’s weakly fluttering valve. He’s pushed the seeker’s frame further than ever before, but Starscream has given no indication that he actually wants to stop. The silver mech is just in a delirious state of exhausted pleasure.

Knock Out reaches up to grasp Starscream’s wings, intending to use them as leverage to resume thrusting, but Starscream’s valve clenches harder than it has in quite a while. He releases his grip on the wings. “Well well well, I thought your valve had just about had it, Star,” he purrs with a couple more shallow thrusts.

Starscream mumbles something incoherent into the berth, and he grunts with the effort it takes for him to tilt his hips up further for Knock Out. 

Curious, Knock Out repeats the squeeze to the wing plating. Starscream valve cycles tighter again, and both mechs groan. “Ooh, I love it when you squeeze around me,” he says, playfully tightening and loosening his grip on Starscream’s wings to cause corresponding clenches around his spike.

* * *

Shh, don't cry. It'll all be over soon. Now keep counting. W/ bottom Star and dom Windblade? (bless your heart)

\----------

Starscream can no longer keep himself from struggling against his bonds. His valve is on fire and he wants nothing more than to close his legs and shield it with his servos, but the cuffs holding his servos above his helm hold strong, and the spreader bar between his knees is equally stout. “Please!” he sobs.

“Shh, don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon,” Windblade assures him with a gentle touch to his side that makes the bound mech flinch and cry out. “Now keep counting.”

Starscream wails before the crop even strikes his swollen anterior node, and it turns into a shriek as the pain registers. “Nineteen! _Please_!”

Windblade coos comfortingly, using the crop to pet Starscream’s quaking chassis. She’s not striking his nub hard at all, but she’d used suction to force energon to pool in the bundle of sensors, leaving them incredibly sensitive- almost to the point where a gentle touch was painful pleasure. 

With Starscream’s near constant whines and sobs, it’s almost easy to pity him. However, he’d purposefully disobeyed her earlier in the evening, he’s got lubricant streaking down his thighs, and there’s no sign of a safeword.

“Please, I’m sorry,” Starscream cries, gasping for cool air as he continues trying to close his legs to shield his abused valve.

“Didn’t I tell you to hush? Would you like us to start over?”

Starscream frantically shakes his helm. “N-Nineteen.”

* * *

I'm so proud of you Windblade /Starscream continued off the keep counting one? That's my fave so far mm I just imagine how swollen his poor, puffy node its

\----------

Windblade smiles, and she continues to gently pet Starscream with the crop. “There’s a good boy. You’re almost done.”

Starscream is still panting for air to cool his frame, and he whines on each exhale. He knows that another blow is coming, and the gentle strokes of the crop against his chassis are doing nothing to relax him. He settles for nodding, not trusting himself to stick to the permitted words if he starts to speak. 

Windblade strikes without warning, the crop hitting Starscream’s anterior node with the most force yet.

Starscream shrieks and he curls so much that his pedes actually leave the floor, suspending himself for a moment as he recoils from the blow. “ _Twenty_!!” he screams before he even manages to uncurl and get his pedes back on the ground.

The femme watches as Starscream struggles to relax, but pain continues to bombard his system with every faint pulse of energon through his engorged nub. 

“P-Please, I’m sorry. Twenty. I’m sorry,” Starscream sobs, finally slumping forward. His wings hang low in submission as he desperately gasps for cooling air between his sobs.

Windblade is silent for a long moment, letting Starscream gather what composure he can manage before she steps in close.

“I’m sorry. Twenty. I’ll behave. I’m sorry,” Starscream whines, shivering as he buries his face into Windblade’s shoulder.

“Shhhhhh,” Windblade soothes him. “I’m so proud of you. You misbehaved, and you took your punishment very well. So proud of you. Shhhhhhhhhh.”

Starscream leans more fully into her, still trembling and occasionally sobbing as the femme gently rubs his wings.

* * *

"You look so good with your lips stretched around me like that." TFA Starscream/Optimus?

\----------

Starscream chuckles, carefully tracing his claws along the little Prime’s finials. “You look so good with your lips stretched around me like that.”

Optimus tries to glare, but he coughs around Starscream’s spike and he’s forced to pull back. Starscream’s servos keep him from completely pulling off of Starscream’s spike, however, so he doesn’t really have a hope of making a verbal rebuke. He’d like to tell Starscream not to inflate his own ego like that, but, well, he’s not really in a position to do so.

“You’re doing so well, little Prime,” Starscream taunts, pulling his helm further forward again.

Optimus struggles to open his jaw far enough, and he knows that he’s doing well when Starscream’s turbines whir briefly.

_If only Starscream would pick more convenient locations and times for these little rendezvous._

* * *

"Sounds like someone's been a good boy today." Maybe Bayverse Optimus/Megatron (with Megs being the sub?)

\----------

Megatron checks his chronometer and nearly jumps. He’s running out of time. Quickly, Megatron gathers his gag and stasis cuffs. 

He kneels in front of the door first, and he opens his mouth wide for the ball of his gag. With practiced ease, he buckles it tightly and inserts the lock into the pin, ensuring that he cannot remove it without Optimus (short of breaking it, of course). He idly chews at it for a moment, settling it into place in his mouth. Next comes the stasis cuffs. He doesn’t turn them on, he merely locks them around his wrists behind his back.

He finishes just in time, because he hears the familiar footsteps approaching. It opens to admit Optimus Prime, and the bot barely spares him a glance before turning to lock the door behind himself. He walks past Megatron with a quick pat on the helm, and he retrieves the data pad that is waiting for him.

Optimus takes a moment to read over the datapad, and he hums in approval. It contains a list of all of the chores that Megatron performed while the Prime was away, as well as a sort of journal containing his desires and more explicit ideas and yearnings.

“Sounds like someone’s been a good boy today,” Optimus praises, approaching Megatron to deliver some true petting now.

Megatron sighs, leaning into the Prime’s thigh.

* * *

"Shh, I'm going to keep you safe." Pet Cyclonus and Megatron is his master?

\----------

Cyclonus tenses when he sees the next thing that Megatron has in his servos. Binding him so his arms are crossed behind his back and his legs cannot unfold is one thing, but a blindfold is another.

Still, he lets Megatron put it on him, and he shivers as his vision goes black. A digit traces the arch of one cheek, and he leans into the touch without really meaning to

“Open.”

Cyclonus obeys, and he grunts when what he quickly realizes is a ball gag is pressed deep into his mouth. The straps are fastened around his helm, rendering coherent speech impossible. Cyclonus chews on the gag in annoyance, wishing it weren’t so deep in his mouth so that he could spit it out if he so chose, but Megatron quickly distracts him.

“Do you trust me?”

Cyclonus nods without hesitation, though now he is suspicious. Why would Megatron ask him th-

Something magnetizes to each side of his helm, and Cyclonus can no longer hear anything. He twists in his bindings, only to have Megatron’s strong arms still him in the silver mech’s lap. A servo appears on the back of his neck where it calmly massages the plating there.

Slowly, Cyclonus’s frame relaxes against Megatron. Unable to see, hear, move, or speak, it’s really all he can do.

At least, he stays relaxed until he’s suddenly tilted backwards. His internal components quail at being leaned backwards when he has no control, and he struggles against Megatron.

A digit appears across his lips and he receives a comm message.

“Shhh, I’m going to keep you safe. Relax. Trust me. Shhhhh,” Megatron soothes him over the internal comminucation.

Only now that he’s being shushed does Cyclonus realize that his vocalizer is active…and at an embarrassingly high pitch, too. He silences it, biting down on his gag in determination. He forces himself to relax once more, and he can feel the pleased rumble through Megatron’s chassis.

* * *

“Primus kid, slow down!”ratchet and rodimus

\----------

Rodimus couldn’t help it, really.

Ratchet’s spike is….. _perfect_. It’s short, so it won’t be jabbing anywhere it shouldn’t. It’s thick, so it’ll give a lovely stretch for Rodimus and the Prime will be nice a snug for Ratchet. It’s curved, so it’ll be able to his his favorite sensors with just a little bit of aim. It’s modded with extra sensors, so Rodimus will really be able to drive Ratchet wild with his glossa…

Yep, it’s a perfect spike.

That’s why Rodimus didn’t even bother trying to restrain himself when he finally saw it.

Ratchet’s panel was barely open before the Prime was in his lap, lining up, and trying to sink down onto his spike.

“Primus, kid, slow down!” Ratchet snaps, grasping the Prime’s slim waist and stopping his descent. “Haven’t you ever heard of ‘foreplay?’“

“Yeah, but that can come later. I need your spike right now. Five minutes ago. Oh come on don’t do this to me. Don’t make me wait,” Rodimus pleads, rotating his hips to stimulate the small portion of Ratchet’s spike that he’d managed to already insert.

* * *

"Do you want this? Why don't you beg for it, hm?" TFP Knockout and Breakout?

\----------

Breakdown groans and hunches over. Even bound on his knees, he still comes up to Knock Out’s chest. 

The medic smirks, watching Breakdown’s spike twitch with pent up charge. He continues lazily stroking his own spike, teasing his partner. “Poor thing. Do you want this? Why don’t you beg for it, hm?”

Breakdown actually groans a bit. “Don’t make me do that? You know I’m bad with words…”

“Try for me,” Knock Out encourages, petting the side of Breakdown’s helm with his other servo.

Shifting on his knees, Breakdown searches for words that sound suitably seductive and don’t sound like a bad porn vid….

“I’m waiting,” the medic says, gently squeezing his spike.

Breakdown groans, optics locked on Knock Out’s servo and spike. “I- Please, Knock Out, can I suck your spike?” he asks, and he almost flinches as his faceplates heat in embarrassment. That felt….strange. Was it a weird thing to say? Oh, he wishes Knock Out would just gag him so he wouldn’t have to worry about words-

“Wouldn’t you rather have it in your valve rather than your mouth?”

Shaking his helm, Breakdown never takes his optics off Knock Out’s spike as leans just a little bit closer. “I wanna make you feel good, and you taste good. Please?”

Knock Out smiles, and he grasps Breakdown’s helm and pulls him in until his spike is buried in the larger mech’s mouth. Breakdown moans, and Knock Out huffs in pleasure.

* * *

I bet that hurt good, didn't it darling?" with bottom Rodimus and Ultra Magnus? I love these kink memes omg. mtmte uni

\----------

Rodimus pants, leaning back against Ultra Magnus for support. This position, with him straddling the larger mech’s lap and with his back to Ultra Magnus’s chassis, has his spike grinding firmly against one of the sensor clusters in his valve. Luckily, Ultra Magnus keeps one arm wrapped around him to hold him into place.

Ultra Magnus pulls back on the Prime’s collar, forcing his helm back. “Are you nearing overload?” he asks.

Knowing better than to even try lying, Rodimus nods. Suddenly the servo holding his collar is gone, and it reappears to slap his anterior node. He cries out, briefly struggling against Ultra Magnus before the initial sting fades and he settles back down. Rodimus groans, his valve cycling around the spike stretching it open. The sting killed his rising charge, but Rodimus is left more aroused and eager than before.

“I bet that hurt good, didn’t it darling?” Ultra Magnus murmurs quietly, using his servo to apologetically rub Rodimus’s stretched valve lips.

Rodimus shivers as his charge starts rising again. “Y-Yes, sir. I- May I have another?”

Ultra Magnus gives a short thrust up into Rodimus, making the bot cry out. “Of course,” he says before repeating the slap.

* * *

"No need to be so shy, it's just you and me" Tfp Ratchet/Wheeljack ? :3

\----------

“R-Ratchet! What are you- ah!”

Ratchet chuckles as he further spreads Wheeljack’s legs and leans down to swipe his glossa across the bot’s valve. Wheeljack tenses as Ratchet licks at the sensitive plating around his valve again, and the medic casts his gaze back up at him. He pulls away, smirking.

Wheeljack’s face is a bright shade of red. “Ratchet, I-”

“No need to be so shy, it’s just you and me.”

Fidgeting, Wheeljack considers reaching down and pushing Ratchet’s helm away from his valve. It’s not that the attention didn’t feel great, it’s just… Wheeljack knows that he’s gotten up to some crazy things with his valve and it’s seen more than its fair share of use…. It’s kinda….showing some wear and tear. To have Ratchet’s face so close- where he can see every detail-

“Besides, you taste amazing, babe.”

Wheeljack jolts as Ratchet’s mouth latches onto his main sensory node and sucks. Maybe it doesn’t matter what it looks like… “D-Do that again?”

Ratchet hums around the node, making Wheeljack cry out before he sucks again.

* * *

"You look so good with your lips stretched around me like that." Sub!Fracture/Dom!Drift

\----------

“Come on,” Drift coaxes.

Fracture opens his mouth a bit, hesitates, and then shuts it again.

“I’m waiting, Fracture,” he says now, more of an order this time.

It takes a few more moments for him to steel his resolve for this. He finally opens his mouth and leans forward slightly.

Drift helps by pulling Fracture’s helm closer until his spike is beginning to prod at his throat. Fracture grunts and reflexively swallows around his spike. “You look so good with your lips stretched around me like that,” Drift purrs.

Fracture squirms as his spark…. _flutters_ at the praise.

* * *

"You're so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me." Fracture/Thunderhoof

\----------

Fracture smirks, panting as Thunderhoof is forced to pull away from their kiss to gasp for air. The mafia boss’s vents can’t keep up with his rapidly heating frame…. Not with how Fracture’s digits are pumping into his valve even as the bounty hunter has him backing toward the berth. “Primus,” he gasps, trying to spread his legs, but he only succeeds in stumbling.

“Careful," Fracture chuckles after he helps Thunderhoof regain his footing. “Why don’t you give me a show, hmm?”

Thunderhoof pouts when Fracture’s fingers leave his valve, but an idea quickly forms that he’s certain will have Fracture’s interest quickly. “A show, huh?” Thunderhoof says as he turns his back to his partner. He takes the last two steps to reach the berth and slowly bends over to rest his chest on it, leaving his aft high in the air.

Fracture groans as light catches the lubricant that’s smeared across Thunderhoof’s valve and even starting to stain those lovely blue thighs. He opens his mouth, intending to congratulate Thunderhoof on such a nice display, but the words die on his glossa quickly.

Thunderhoof has reached underneath himself to spread his valve lips apart with two digits, revealing the twitching rim completely. He turns his helm back as far as he can so that the bounty hunter can see him slide two fingers on his other servo into his mouth, glossa sneaking out to make an appearance.

Fracture groans, moving close enough to stroke Thunderhoof’s aft. “You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me,” he praises, panting slightly as his touch strays closer and closer to that perfectly spread valve.

* * *

“Get down on your hands and knees and show me that pretty little valve of yours.” TFP Arcee said to Optimus.

\----------

Optimus carefully allows his cooling fans to online. The base is nearly empty- only Ratchet remains, and he’s deep within the base performing repairs. He’s trying to remain focused on his task of logging scouting reports, tagging sensor logs, and compiling resource requests for Agent Fowler, but that’s nearly impossible.

“And then,” Arcee continues over the Prime’s commline, “I’ll put my mouth right over that pretty node of yours and _suck_.”

The Prime nearly groans as his knees weaken. How can Arcee affect him this acutely when she is quite literally a thousand miles away investigating a small energon signal?

“I’ll make it nice and sensitive before my spike every even comes near your valve,” she continues.

Optics unfocused, Optimus barely even registers Ratchet entering his field of vision in time to somewhat compose himself.

“This base deserved to be abandoned. It’s very well falling apart around us,” the medic grouses.

Optimus has to swallow before he can speak, “My apologies, Ratchet. Were you successful?”

“Yes, the compressor is functional again, but Fowler needs to get that new equipment he promised us! Or a new base of operations.”

“I will speak to him,” Optimus concedes. He sees Arcee’s scouting report come through, and once again he’s left wondering how she can be so unaffected while Optimus is so very flustered.

“Arcee to base,” the femme comms the main terminal this time, “Energon signal was a bust- may have been a ‘Con rolling through, but I can’t find any trace of them. Requesting a ground bridge home.”

Optimus is thankful that Ratchet approaches the main console before he has to.

“Why don’t you go to your quarters, Optimus?” Arcee suggests over the Prime’s personal line. “Get down on your hands and knees and show me that pretty little valve of yours. I want to see the effect I’ve had on you.”

“I….daresay you will not be disappointed, Arcee,” he says along the commline as he verbally excuses himself with a nod to Ratchet. His friend waves him off as he calculates the goundbridge necessary to bring the two-wheeler home, and Optimus is glad for Ratchet being preoccupied. He can feel lubricant begin to leak down his thighs.

* * *

"You're so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me." With KO and Bee please? if it's not too late to ask

\----------

“C’mon, Knock Out,” Bumblebee whines, squirming on his back both with impatience and in an effort to settle his doorwings into the padding of the berth. His panel had snapped open the moment their door had locked shut and Knock Out is _still_ acting cool.

Instead of indulging the scout-turned-leader, Knock Out just hums as he palms his closed panel. He starts to tell Bumblebee how lovely he looks laid out beneath him, but the yellow bot can’t contain himself.

“Please. You’ve been touching my doors all day,” he groans as he pulls his knees up to his chest. “Don’t…. _Primus_ don’t keep teasing me? Knock Out?”

Knock Out hums again, pretending to consider it, and Bumblebee whines again and pulls his knees up higher and further apart. “You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me. How could I resist such a lovely sight and such wonderful begging?” he says as he reaches out to gently stroke Bumblebee’s valve as he finally opens his own panel.

* * *

"let's get you cleaned up." Windblade/Starscream pre-first time/first time.

\----------

The chime seems excessively loud when it finally alerts him to a presence on the other side of the door, and Starscream has to count to ten so his visitor doesn’t realize he’d been pacing at the door. It’s just that she’s so very late and he thought she wouldn’t come and- he taps the door control.

“Starscream, I’m sorry I’m so late. I-”

“You’re…. ** _filthy!_** ”

“Yes, I-”

“Get in here. We can’t have our date with you looking this way,” Starscream says as he grasps the femme’s grimy arm and pulls her into his quarters and toward his private washrack.

Windblade sputters, trying to walk softly so she doesn’t drop clumps of mud onto Starscream’s floor. “My patrol spotted a little problem on the ground, and I landed in what happened to be a well-disguised mud pit,” she explains as she’s ushered into the washrack. “I hope we can still have our movie night?”

Starscream turns the flow on, and mud begins sloughing off the femme. “Well, I was thinking, seeing as how you’re so late, you could… _make it up to me?”_ he suggests slyly with a grin as he applies soap to a sponge.

With a hum, Windblade flicks her wings in the spray. “Why, whatever could you have in mind?” she asks teasingly even as her spark thrums with excitement. They could still have a movie night, even if neither of them really watch the movie, right? 

* * *

"i think you deserve a treat" with Mega/Tarn (dom megs obviously) because you just reblogged that pic and the world needs more MegaTarn. Mayybe some pet play? Cute collars and leashes?

(believe it or not, I kept [the post you’re talking about](http://inushiek.tumblr.com/post/130111284073/felixfellow-tarns-been-a-good-boy-uwu) open this whole time)

————–

Tarn gasps sharply, “Lord Megatron, I-”

Megatron tightens his grip around Tarn’s spike, interrupting the mech. “You’ve performed most admirably as of late, Tarn.”

“You’re most kind, My Lord,” the Decepticon pants.

Megatron smirks, “Indeed, and I think you deserve a treat.”

“Lord Megatron?”

The warlord doesn’t answer as he lies down and maneuvers Tarn into a position straddling his chassis. “I don’t do this for just anyone.”

“Wha-HCK-” Tarn hurriedly muffles his loud burst of static as Megatron’s glossa slowly licks down the length of his spike.

Megatron hums in approval, pleased by Tarn’s reaction. He opens his mouth to take the leaking spike, and Tarn trembles above him and gives an involuntary thrust downward into his mouth.

“F-Forgive me! Lord Megatron, I-”

He moans and grasps Tarn’s hips to pull him deeper. He opens a comm line to Tarn, and the mech immediately accepts the connection. “This is your reward. You have permission.”

Tarn’s hips are nearly in motion before Megatron completes the last word, thrusting shallowly. He gasps sharply when his Lord’s servos pull him even deeper, and that throat opens easily for him. “L-Lord Megatron!” he cries out, unable to control himself as he thrusts deep into Megatron’s welcoming throat.

* * *

Smokescreen and Bee. "It's okay it's okay" (when one of them-the sub-starts to react really really badly all of a sudden and the other is comforting them)

\----------

**warning for a panic attack and mention of past torture and safeword use** yay *confetti*

\----------

Bumblebee arches up toward Smokescreen, releasing a shuddering gasp as his partner’s spike _finally_ hits his favorite node. “Yes yes yes,” he chants, pulling against his restraints in a quest for more.

“’Hold still,’ I said,” Smokescreen says before he places a servo on Bumblebee’s neck to push him back down onto the berth. He groans as he thrusts faster, chasing his overload.

Optics going stark white, Bumblebee trembles. He’s not- It isn’t- Smokescreen is- But-

Bumblebee helplessly keens before he actually manages to form words. “Red!” he sobs. “Red red red red red-”

Smokescreen’s frame halts the instant he registers what Bumblebee is saying. He immediately removes his hand from his partner’s throat and carefully withdraws his spike. “Bee? Shhhh, shhh, Bee look at me, Bee. What’s wrong?” he asks even as he reaches for the scissors stashed nearby and gets to work quickly cutting the distressed bot’s restraints. “Talk to me.”

Bumblebee can’t speak, he’s gasping for air to cool his frame that’s rapidly overheating with his panic. Optics uncooperative as well, he blindly gropes for Smokescreen as soon as his servos are free. 

Smokescreen allows himself to be pulled down on top of Bumblebee, and the scout buries his face in Smokescreen’s neck as he continues to hyperventilate and sob. “Shhhhhh, it’s okay it’s okay, you’re safe, you’re okay, just breathe,” he chants softly as he pets Bumblebee’s helm gently.

They stay like that for a while, with Bumblebee’s ankles actually still tethered to the berth since he grabbed Smokescreen before they could be cut loose, and the scout’s systems eventually being to normalize.

Still trembling, Bumblebee finally mumbles an apology.

“Sorry?” Smokescreen repeats, confused. “No no no you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Bee. You didn’t do anything wrong. Will you tell me what happened? Please?”

“M-My neck. I-” Bumblebee shudders, but forces himself to continue. “Megatron held me by the neck when he- when he took my voice. I- I’m sorry I-”

“Shhhhhh, it’s okay, there’s no reason to apologize. I didn’t know, Bee, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ll never touch your neck like that again. Should I never touch it again at all?”

Bee shakes his helm, “I….I like when you kiss me. I should have said something sooner.”

“Hey, none of that,” Smokescreen gently admonishes, still petting Bumblebee’s helm. “What can I do to make you feel better?” The scout just makes a confused sound in response, so Smokescreen continues, “We could stay here for a while, or you can let me go so I can finish cutting you loose, or I can go get you some energon, or I can give you a nice thorough scrub in the washrack, for example. Anything you want. Name it.”

“I think I’m good here,” Bumblebee murmurs before he reburies his face in Smokescreen’s neck.

* * *

“How about we just get all this useless stuff off your desk and you frag me through it?” Minimus/Rodimus

\----------

“Rodimus!” the mech sputters.

Rodimus pretends not to notice as he continues to finger himself right in the middle of the office.

“I’m _working_ ,” Minimus complains, though he can’t seem to take his optics off the surprising amount of lubricant already coating the Prime’s digits.

“Work schmerk,” Rodimus insists, moving closer to the other bot. “You can take some time off while Ratchet’s got your armor in for maintenance.”

“I exited the armor precisely so I could _continue_ working while Ratchet is performing maintenance.”

“Psh,” is Rodimus Prime’s great response.

Minimus Ambus suddenly realizes that the Prime is much closer than he realized, and sticky digits are tracing his spike cover. “Rodimus-”

“How about we just get all this useless stuff off your desk and you frag me through it?” Rodimus suggest slyly, but he doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s already sweeping the desk clear and bending over it. He lifts one leg to hook over the surface and give Minimus Ambus an unobstructed view.

Minimus makes a distressed sound as all of his datapads go into a disorganized heap on the floor, but then Rodimus Prime’s valve clenches on nothing and his frustration leaves him. “Move further up. I’ll have to be on the desk with you to reach at my current stature.”

Rodimus muffles his quiet snickering by dragging his frame further onto the desktop. “You’re the boss~”

* * *

“I have guns in my knees” Ironhide/Crosshairs

\----------

“Th-That’s ridiculous.”

“‘Ridiculous,’ huh?” Ironhide chuckles as he adds two more digits into Crosshairs’ valve without warning. “Then why are you squeezing my cannons?”

Crosshairs chokes on a moan, unable to process Ironhide’s words as his valve stretches.

“As a matter of fact,” Ironhide continues casually as if he isn’t fingering Crosshairs  to his third overload. “The only things of mine you’ve touched all night have been weapons. Admit it, you’ve got a kink.”

“L-Liar!” Crosshairs gasps sharply even as his fingers continue toclutch at Ironhide’s cannons as his engine revs.

Ironhide hums before he leans in to closely observe the other mech’s faceplates. “Is that so?” he asks before he deliberately spins his cannons beneath Crosshairs’ grasp.

Crossharis cries out, valve closing around Ironhide’s digits as his charge ratchets ever higher. “F-Fragger! You just-” he moans, quivering beneath Ironhide, “Y-You just hit a node!”

“Did I?” Ironhide rumbles as he leans down to growl directly next to the straining mech’s audio sensor, “I have guns in my knees.”

With a shout, Crosshairs overloads beneath the weapons specialist.

* * *

"What a pretty blush." Steeljaw/anon bot or bot of your choosing

\----------

“Good boy,” Steeljaw praises, using his thumb to rub Thunderhoof’s node when the bot manages to finally sink all the way down on his spike.

His cry is muffled by his gag, and Thunderhoof squirms on top of Steeljaw’s spike. That’s all he really can do with how tightly Steeljaw is holding his leash. Without any slack, he can’t ride the spike like he wants. All he can do is clench his valve, bite down on his gag, and twist his wrists in their cuffs restlessly until he’s given permission and slack enough to really move.

Steeljaw smirks, using his grip on the leash to pull Thunderhoof’s helm even further down. “What a pretty blush, pet, and your valve feels so nice stretched around me. As a matter of fact, I think I want you to stay where you are.”

Thunderhoof groans. Steeljaw can’t be serious, can he? 

He hadn’t meant to whine, but that’s what the bound mech does when Steeljaw retrieves a datapad from his subspace and relaxes back onto the berth.

“Be a good pet and keep my spike interested while I read, and then I’ll decide if you deserve an overload,” Steeljaw orders smoothly as he gives another quick rub to Thunderhoof’s node for motivation.

Luckily, this isn’t a hard order to follow. After all, his valve still hasn’t stopped twitching.

* * *

“I didn’t realize you had this many false spikes.” Rodimus to Ultra Magnus. :p (IT IS ALWAYS THE ONE YOU LEAST EXPECT.)

\----------

“Oh, _come **on**_ ,” Rodimus whines.

Although the complaining was not something he wanted to hear, Ultra Magnus also laments having to pause their evening. One quick overload should have been enough to pacify the Prime, however. “Rodimus, I must complete this report tonight. I wanted to have it finished two megacycles ago but someone kept distracting me.”

Rodimus grins, unapologetic. “And you had fun. Come on,” he pauses to push his digits back into his gaping valve. “I’m ready for another round or eight.”

“No.”

“Magnus-” 

“No, Rodimus, not until I finish my work. If you must, you may keep yourself occupied with anything in the chest,” Ultra Magnus says firmly as he points at a container on the far side of the room.

“Huh?” Rodimus asks, and his curiosity has him rolling off the berth and crossing the room without further protest to Ultra Magnus working. He clicks the latch open and heaves the lid off.

Ultra Magnus has just enough time to sit down at his desk before he hears Rodimus making incoherent, halting words of confusion.

“You- Bu- Wh- Th- Huh?”

“What is it, Rodimus?”

Rodimus stumbles through the door connecting the berth room to the office holding two armfulls of…. “Wh- Magnus???? These are? I didn’t realize you had this many false spikes!?!??!!”

“Yes. I do not always have a partner, Rodimus, and I do enjoy variety.”

The Prime sputters for several more astroseconds before he gathers his wits. “I’m going to test these out….. Should I get Perceptor so I can call it science?”

“Go to the berth,” Magnus orders, sending the cackling Prime practically hopping back into the berth room, trailing dildos all the way.

* * *

“(bots name), I know it feels good but I can’t frag you if you keep squirming around! Optimus at Starscream?

\----------

“Ready?” Optimus asks.

Panting, Starscream nods. His array is aching after how long the Prime has teased him, so he’s more than ready. Optimus had explained that the magnetic cap is a toy that will seal itself over the tip of his spike and vibrate.

With a rumble of his engine, Optimus Prime activates the toy.

For the first few moments, Starscream is too stunned to move as his mouth silently works around a moan, but then his frame catches up and he screams as he begins to writhe. Primus! He thought it would feel good, but!

“How is it, Starscream?” Optimus asks, pitching his voice just the way the seeker likes best. “Did I forget to mention that it fits so snugly that your transfluid cannot escape, so you are unable to overload? It does not appear that you mind, though.”

“NNNNNNNNGAH!” Starscream cries out as he wraps his servo around his spike and quickly pumps it, trying to overload despite what Optimus had just told him. 

Engine revving, Optimus just watches for a few moments. Starscream is squirming madly, grinding his wings deep into the berth padding as he frantically works his spike. Optimus allows himself a quiet chuckle. “Would you like me to give your valve some attention, Starscream?”

“Oh scrap please please please please please please!!!” Starscream frantically chants. He feels servos briefly push on his knees, but they slide away quickly. Starscream whines when this repeats several times.

“Starscream, I know it feels good but I can’t frag you if you keep squirming around,” Optimus finally says after the fourth failed attempt at parting the seeker’s legs.

With great effort, Starscream manages to online his optics and gaze up at the Prime as his processors grasp the words. “O-Oh. Please,” he whimpers as he forces his legs to spread wide enough for his partner’s frame, but he can’t stop desperately squeezing his spike. “Please! F-Frag me please please please.”

* * *

“How about we tap out your fluid reserves." bottom Ratchet to top Drift (who maybe still has some old mods on his spike..)

\----------

“Scrap, yes!” Ratchet growls, hooking his pedes around Drift’s aft to pull him in harder. 

Drift, panting, braces himself on Ratchet’s windshield to pin the medic down as he activates one of his mods. The outer plating on his spike flares slightly, just enough to really drag and scrape over the nodes in his partner’s valve. He’s not unaffected, however, and the moans as more mesh of his spike is exposed for Ratchet’s valve to make contact with.

Gasping sharply, Ratchet arches as his valve cycles down tightly around Drift’s spike in overload.

With a shout, Drift is pulled along with him, and he quickly leans down to steal a clumsy kiss from Ratchet. The speedster hears chains rattle at Ratchet tries to reach for him, and he smirks as the medic groans in defeat even though he’s still riding the end of his charge release. Finally, Drift rights himself so they can both pant and cool their frames. “Need something, Ratchet?” he asks teasingly.

Ratchet grunts as his valve spasms again, and he can feel both of their fluid leaking out. A thought occurs that has him smirking right back at the former Decepticon. “How about we tap out your fluid reserves?” he proposes, and he doesn’t miss how Drift shivers. “Fill me up and you can decide if I’m allowed to clean up or if I have to lock my panel back up. You up for it?”

Drift moans, grinding his repressurizing spike into Ratchet. “You want me to use that mod I’ve got, or-”

“Nah, let’s empty you out the fun way,” Ratchet interrupts.

“I love the way you think,” Drift purrs, leaning down to deliver a rather chaste kiss to Ratchet’s nose before he sits up to begin thrusting again. Ratchet sputters at the kiss, faceplates heating, and Drift laughs. “You can say the most filthy things and not bad an optic, but a little kiss gets you all flustered, Ratch.”

Ratchet pulls on his restraints again, grumbling until Drift’s thumb suddenly appears on his main node give it a firm rub.

* * *

Primus kid, slow down! Kup at Rodimus? Thank you, Inu!

\----------

Kup knows what he’s doing right? He has to realize this is torture. He _has_ to….

Rodimus can’t help but wonder as he’s ordered to put his servos down _again_. Kup’s had him work himself nearly up to overload six times, and then ordered the Prime to stop every time. Rodimus groans, servos balling into frustrated fists as his frame shivers and his spike twitches. He shifts on his knees restlessly, wishing Kup would just give him permission to over-

“Come here.”

Rodimus is immediately moving, crawling close enough to kneel between Kup’s pedes. He can feel heat radiating from the older mech, and Rodimus wonders how Kup can act so calm and collected.

Kup opens his panel to expose his heated array, and he gasps in surprise as Rodimus practically lunges forward and tries to cram his spike down his throat. “Primus kid, slow down!” he says, gently pushing the Prime’s helm away.

Groaning, Rodimus licks his lips as he stares up at Kup. He just needs to overload, and swallowing Kup’s spike would be a great distraction. It’s large enough to be a nice challenge, and a challenge is just what Rodimus needs to focus on so his hips will stop twitching, looking for some sort of stimulation.

Smirking, Kup pets the Prime’s helm as he takes his spike in the other servo and slowly teases it. “You’re pretty worked up, huh?”

Rodimus can only moan in defeat. Kup’s just teasing him now. Well…. “torment” is probably the more accurate word for it.

“Alright, I’m going to tell you exactly what to do, since you haven’t learned the value of going slowly yet. If you can follow my instructions, I’ll let you overload,” Kup bargains, earning an eager nod and desperate whimper from the mech. “Glossa out, lean in, exhale over my valve, and then _slowly_ drag your glossa up from my node to the tip of my spike.”

Rodimus obeys to the letter, but he does whimper quietly. _Primus_ this is torture, too! Having Kup’s spike buried in his throat would feel so much better than this slow stuff- for both of them! Why does he have to-

“ _Good_ ,” Kup praises. “Now repeat that lick twenty more times.”

* * *

"You’re being quiet, is something wrong?” with top Windblade and Starscream, who maybe wants her to be gentle?

\----------

Windblade shifts on her knees, leaning further over Starscream’s back so she can grasp his wings for leverage as she roughly frags the seeker. She watches as Starscream buries his face in the berth.

Starscream digs his digits into the padding, arching his wings back to try to lessen the pressure on them. It’s not that he’s……not enjoying the treatment, exactly, but his mood has shifted and the roughness they’d agreed to just isn’t quite doing it anymore….

Windblade changes her angle slightly. This is a move that normally makes Starscream quite vocal, but it only has his valve ripple slightly. She opens up a comm line so as not to break character too much, “You’re being quiet, is something wrong?”

The seeker doesn’t respond for a few moments, but he eventually replies to the comm. “Would…you maybe ease up?” he asks hesitantly. He feels guilty that they’d discussed things beforehand and he’d agreed, only to switch on Windlbade now-

“Am I hurting you?” Windblade asks aloud now, immediately stopping all movement and loosening her grip.

Embarrassed, Starscream pulls his face out of the berth just enough so the femme can hear him reply, “N-No, not hurting, I just…. My mood changed.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” she asks quietly, leaning down to deliver a kiss between his wings before she gently pulls her spike from his valve. “Here, roll over for me?”

Starscream obeys, reluctant to meet her gaze.

Windblade smiles, entwining her fingers of one servo with Starscream’s as she nuzzles his neck. “Better?” she asks, rubbing circles on Starscream’s hip with the thumb of the other servo.

With a nod, Starscream spreads his thighs and tilts his hips up. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Star. I always want you to tell me if something changes for you,” Windlbade insists gently.

* * *

I do hope that it's not too late to ask but um can I ask for a OP and KO "You're so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me" With Optimus saying that to Knockout. I love submissive Knockout.

\----------

Knock Out squirms, twisting his wrists in the cuffs. He shifts his leg, but only disrupts his balance.

“Careful,” Optimus Prime warns quietly.

The medic huffs, but he stills his frame with great effort. It’s hard _not_ to move in this situation, even though the movement is counterproductive. A chain is looped through the cuffs on his wrists and hoisting them high above the ceiling so he’s on his toes. As if that weren’t precarious enough, Optimus had secured a chain around one ankle and pulled that high toward the ceiling as well. “Optimus-”

“Shh.”

Knock Out groans quietly, but obediently stops speaking. Optimus is behind him, so Knock Out cannot see him aproach, but he soon has a warm frame pressed against his back and a strong arm wrapped around his chassis to hold him in place.

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me,” Optimus Prime says into Knock Out’s white, pointed audio sensor before he delivers a teasing lick.

Gasping sharply, Knock Out arches in the Prime’s hold. He wants to ask the mech to just get on with it, but he’s been told to hush. His only option is to open his panel and rev his engine. Luckily, his reward is to have two of the Prime’s digits press into his valve, making him moan appreciatively. 

“So beautiful,” Optimus repeats before he gently nibbles on the audio sensor.

Knock Out’s supporting knee gives way beneath the assault, and he’s grateful that Optimus is even stronger than he appears.

* * *

"Bad boy/girl. I thought we talked about not doing this."

\----------

Yelping, Smokescreen has no choice but to lean back as the fist wrapped around his collar shoves him backward.

“Bad boy,” Knock Out snaps. He retrieves a cleaning cloth from his subspace and makes a point of methodically wiping his leg clean. “I thought we talked about not doing this.”

Smokescreen squirms nervously. He knows he shouldn’t have done that. He should have been patient and waited, but his panel just felt so _tight_ against his spike and valve. He’d been wanting to open it all day with the way Knock Out was using the small toy in his valve to keep him revved up. As soon as his collar and cuffs were in place and he was on his knees, his self control had finally reached its limit. He’d opened his panel and ground his aching spike against his master’s leg, leaving smears of fluid behind.

Knock Out doesn’t release his pet’s collar yet. Instead, he continues to stare sternly down at Smokescreen, waiting.

The longer the silence continues, the more Smokescreen squirms beneath Knock Out’s glare. He’s not in…..too much trouble…. Right? Smokescreen shivers and releases a quiet, apologetic whine. At the same time, he lowers his doorwings and leans as far back as Knock Out will let him to expose more of his throat.

Expression softening a bit, Knock Out strokes his pet’s throat with his thumb. “That’s a start,” he begins as he finally deactivates the toy in the bot’s valve, “But I still think you’ve lost the privilege to overload unless you’re on your _best_ behavior the rest of the night.”

Smokescreen quickly nods as his hips give an involuntary twitch as the lost stimulation. He can be a good boy. He can be perfect for Knock Out.

* * *

"Do you want this? Why don't you beg for it, hm?" - Nautica/Megatron

\----------

He could scream.

Nautica smirks down at him, carefully teasing her valve just to further torment Megatron.

Megatron shudders as his near-overload charge fades away **_again_** and he wriggles his hips to try to get more stimulation. His valve can’t stop clenching and rippling around the thick vibrator locked within it, and his spike is twitching inside its tight ring. Even if Nautica would leave the vibrator on long enough for him to overload, that blasted ring won’t let him. Six denied overloads are enough to make anyone want to shout.

The femme sighs in pleasure as she slips three fingers back into her valve, slowly working herself up to her fourth overload. Her valve is lax and hot, and she spreads it open so Megatron can see, making the mech groan. “Do you want this? Why don’t you beg for it, hm? My valve is so hot right now I’m sure it would help you forget how much your spike is aching.”

Megatron moans, rocking on his knees. Is he desperate enough to swallow his pride and beg- Nautica turns on the vibrator again, and Megatron knows he’s well and truly outmatched here. He looks up to meet thefemme’s optics as he tries to gather his thoughts enough to coherently beg.

* * *

"I'm very disappointed in you" Minimus Ambus/Rodimus whit domMinimus please ?

\----------

“ _Good_ ,” Minimus praises, his servos playing his his own frame. He’s crouched above the bound Prime, and Rodimus his thrusting up into him. All Minimus has to do is keep the leash wrapped around his fist and hold still. They don’t do this very often. Minimus usually prefers being able to loom over Rodimus as Ultra Magnus, but this certainly has its merits as well. Rodimus always submits no matter his form, and there is appeal in being able to control the mech even when he’s larger-

Rodimus gasps sharply, biting down hard on his gag. He digs his heels into the berth as his frame tenses-

“No!” 

-and he cries out as he overloads into Minumus Ambus despite orders not to do so without permission. Rodimus writhes in his bindings and continues to thrust upward through his overload, but he knows he’s in for it now.

Minumus Ambus waits for Rodimus to collapse, panting onto the berth. “I’m very disappointed in you,” he says. “I give you the opportunity to feel something other than your own housing around your spike, and this is how you behave.”

Rodimus shivers, whining. He hadn’t meant to! It’s just that Minimus is so tight and his spike is so sensitive-

“Now what am I going to do with you,” Minimus sighs as he lifts himself off of the Prime’s spike. “Hmm, you’ve made a terrible mess. First things first…. Clean it up.”

Rodimus has his glossa extended past the gag even before Minimus moves up his frame to straddle his helm, and he immediately gets to work licking him clean.

* * *

"Come sit on my lap, pet." Megatron/Starscream with "pet" being Star's petname that Megs rarely uses?

\----------

This….isn’t working.

Normally, no matter how trying Starscream’s day, it only takes a few minutes after his collar goes on to get him settled. Most often all Megatron has to do is pour his pet’s energon into his bowl, and Starscream is calm by the time he’s finished fueling.

Today had been particularly tiring, however. Starscream had broken up three fights, had to pry a welder from one soldier’s servos before another soldier was welded to a wall, had an experiment fail rather spectacularly, and, to top it all off, had gotten his ankle twisted while breaking up a fourth fight. A bad day for the seeker has him tense, angry, and eager to unwind.

Unfortunately, Megatron’s normal efforts are in vain this evening. He’s been reading incident reports (submitted by Starscream himself) on the fights, scuffles, small explosions, and injuries while petting the back of the seeker’s neck, but Starscream is still huffing impatiently and shifting restlessly.

Megatron sighs quietly, accepting the fact that he’ll have to resort to breaking their routine in and effort to break Starscream out of his mood. He sets the data files aside and removes his servo from the seeker’s neck. “Come sit in my lap, pet.”

Starscream perks up, wings fluttering a bit. That’s new and…sounds _wonderful_. It’s been a while since he’s actually been called pet, and it makes him feel warm as his mood lifts a bit. Turbines purring quietly, Starscream climbs up into Megatron’s lap to receive better petting.

“There’s my good pet,” Megatron praises, feeling the pleasant shiver travel through Starscream’s frame before he begins gently stroking the space between the seeker’s wings.

* * *

"Shh don't cry, it'll all be over soon. Now keep counting. " Thundercracker at Starscream? Thank you!

\----------

Panting, Starscream shivers weakly. He looks pleadingly up at the other seeker, mouth working silently.

Thundercracker smirks and pets the side of the bound mech’s helm. He’s got Starscream’s hands cuffed behind his back and his ankles tied snugly to his thighs to keep the seeker firmly straddled across the incredibly powerful vibrator.

“P-Please!” Starscream finally manages, twitching as his charge nears its peak again.

Walking around behind him, the blue seeker presses down on Starscream’s shoulders so his oversensitive valve is pushed even more against the vibrator.

Starscream shouts, feebly struggling. His valve feels like it’s on fire. Everything is too much and Thundercracker wants to give him more and he’s not sure if he can but-

“Shhh, don’t cry, it’ll all be over soon. Now keep counting. I want to know every single time you overload.”

Starscream blinks frantically, only now realizing that his vision had begun to blur with tears. “ _Please_ ,” he sobs, his hips grinding down onto the vibrator of their own will. His wings snap up high, and he shudders. “F-Fourteen!” he screams, and Thundercracker’s servos against his chassis are all that keeps him from collapsing forward. His valve becomes even more sensitive, making the pain more acute as his charge rises again faster than ever. “Th-Thundercracker _**please**_!”

“Shhhhh,” Thundercracker gently hushes him again. Starscream had challenged him to force twenty overloads out of him, and that’s what he’s going to do unless he hears a safeword. “Stop screaming, just count.”

Starscream whimpers desperately, “Fifteen!”

* * *

"No, more! I'm not full enough yet!" Rodimus saying to Ultra Magnus thank you Inu!!

\----------

Rodimus pants, rubbing his abdomen. It’s visibly distended now, and his engine is revving in excitement. They’d started with Ultra Magnus feeding him energon, which had the Prime feeling full, and then Ultra Magnus had fragged him until he was out of transfluid. 

Ultra Magnus had kept Rodimus Prime’s hips tilted up to minimize the fluid that seeped out before he could insert and lock in the obscenely large plug into the sloppy valve. He’d patted the smaller mech’s distended belly and gently squeezed it before he made to lie down on the berth, but Rodimus had grabbed his arm.

“No, more! I’m not full enough yet!” Rodimus insists. He wants to feel like he can’t move because he’s so full. He wants to feel like there’s absolutely no room left inside of him. He wants to still feel stuffed when they wake in the morning. He wants to be unsure if there’s enough room for Ultra Magnus’s spike in the morning.

“Rodimus, you’ve had three cubes already-”

“One more? Please?” Rodimus asks, valve rippling around the plug at the very suggestion of being even fuller.

Ultra Magnus ponders it for a moment, and decides to give Rodimus a choice instead. “One more cube of energon, or would you rather have that inflatable toy spreading your valve wide around my transfluid?”

Rodimus releases a static-filled moan, optics flickering as he arches. “Oh _frag_ , the toy! _Please_.”

“Wait here,” Ultra Magnus orders as he leaves the berth to retrieve the toy. It’s large even while deflated, but it can grow large enough to cause the slim Prime’s plating to bulge. Yes, this should have Rodimus feeling full enough.

* * *

"No need to be so shy, it's just you and me." Megatron/Soundwave?

\----------

Biolights pulsing gently, Soundwave purrs once he’s finally fully seated on Megatron’s spike. Megatron wraps his arms around him, pulling Soundwave closer and down.

With a sigh, Megatron buries his face into Soundwave’s neck for a moment. It always takes time to get Soundwave’s valve stretched enough to take his spike no matter how often they’re together, but it’s more than worth the effort. Megatron briefly nibbles at Soundwave’s neck before a loosens his grip. His servos skirt around the slim frame in his lap, claws dipping into seams and beneath the thin but strong armor.

Soundwave trembles, and he presses the crest of his helm against Megatron’s. He tries to reciprocate the touches, but his long arms make it tricky and outright impossible to reach some areas of Megatron’s frame. He chirrs quietly in apology, and he rocks his hips in Megatron’s lap to make up for his inability to reciprocate.

Megatron quickly realizes what the issue is, and his servos move to the covers that protect Soundwave’s recessed tentacles. He strokes over the covers as he rolls his hips up.

Recoiling a bit, Soundwave is surprised by the action. He’d never- They hadn’t- Not during interface. What if Megatron-

“No need to be so shy, it’s just you and me,” Megatron interrupts Soundwave’s worries. The slender mech doesn’t move, and Megatron guesses what’s causing his hesitation. “You will not displease me by using them, Soundwave. On the contrary, I’d like for you to put them to use if you’re comfortable. It’s up to you,” he finishes, moving his servos away before resuming his earlier touches. He doesn’t want Soundwave to think he’s demanding-

Four simultaneous clicks herald the release of the appendages, and Soundwave tentatively touches Megatron’s frame with them.

Megatron hums in approval, trailing one servo all the way down Soundwave’s back to tease the stretched rim of his valve. “Good,” he praises, a little breathless as soft touches come from four directions and Soundwave’s valve ripples at the positive reaction.

* * *

"Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you." Ultra Magnus to Rodimus?

\----------

Too long.

It’s been way too long since Ultra Magnus had bent Rodimus over his desk and just _fragged him_. Somehow, no matter what they do in the berth, it just isn’t the same as being pinned down with his helm next to sixty incident reports and a copy of the Autobot Code.

Rodimus gasps sharply, and then slaps a palm over his mouth. He has to be quiet. The last time he’d been a little loud in this office, Ultra Magnus hadn’t allowed him in the same _corridor_ for over a week.

Way too long.

Ultra Magnus puts one servo down in the middle of the Prime’s back and pins him down even more firmly. “Don’t cover your mouth, I want to hear you.”

Squeaking as the increased pressure has his charge climbing higher, Rodimus cranes his neck around to catch a glimpse of Ultra Magnus. “B-But last time I- nghhh- I did, you kicked me out!” he whispers urgently, making sure that he’s quieter than Ultra Magnus. If he can keep his volume lower than the second in command, then he’s being plenty quiet-

“I kicked you out for a week so I could have soundproofing installed,” Ultra Magnus explains, he’d intended it to be a surprise, but he’d honestly expected Rodimus to pester the crew until someone involved in the installation spilled the truth. The fact that it apparently remained a secret pleases the large mech. “Now, let me hear you.”

“Y-Yes sir!” Rodimus cries out as loudly as he pleases, hips squirming against the desktop until he finds the best angle for the spike slamming into his valve.

* * *

"That's it, keep overloading." Starscream to Optimus? Ah, thank you! I love your writes :-)

(FYI, I pictured G1 here so there are no claws? without a universe I just have to guess OTL)

\----------

Starscream smirks, maintaining his pace. It’s tempting to give in to the Prime’s pleas, but the result of this will be worth it.

Optimus groans, arching and pulling against the cuffs keeping his arms tethered to the head of the berth. “Starscream-!”

“Shhh, be patient,” Starscream soothes, earning a frustrated noise from the Prime. He’s been slowly working his fingers in and out of the rippling valve, being careful not to let Optimus get very close to overload. Starscream has an idea, and he needs the bound mech nigh on desperate for it to work.

“Please, Star, I-”

Starscream adds a fourth digit to the Prime’s valve, making him release a burst of static. “Almost there,” he assures the writhing mech.

“I _am_ there,” Optimus protests, gasping for cool air, “ _Let_ me!”

Starscream doesn’t reply. Instead, he just continues slowly fingering his bound mate for several more clicks until the Prime’s systems hiccup. He’s tempted to see if he can get his whole servo into the wildly twitching valve, but Starscream decides he’s teased Optimus long enough. “Oh, very well,” he says, trying to sound uninterested, before he slams his digits in deep and curls them, scraping hard across oversensitive nodes.

Optimus arches up sharply, shouting as he finally, _finally_ , is allowed to overload. He digs his heels into the berth, tilting his hips up to Starscream can have more access. His optics flicker, but he forces them to remain online to he can stare at the seeker as charge crackles through his frame.

Starscream doesn’t let up as his mate overloads. In fact, he redoubles his efforts. He curls and spreads his four digits rapidly, and he presses his thumb firmly against the bound mech’s node. Optimus shouts, nearly thrashing as Starscream prolongs what was already one Pit of an overload to begin with. “That’s it, keep overloading,” the seeker croons, fingertips dragging harshly over every sensor they can reach.

Unable to speak, all Optimus can do is twitch and pull at his cuffs while his vocalizer spits static and Starscream roughly stimulates and stretches his valve to a second overload that starts before the first one ever managed to end.

* * *

*slams fists on desk* WE NEED DRABBLE OF CHUBBY PUPPY BEING SPOILED

\----------

Thunderhoof sighs heavily and sets his book aside. He closes his optics and pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping to alleviate the ache in his helm. It’s a good book, he’s just been reading it for far too long.

A quiet, curious sound and a helm on his lap has Thunderhoof look down. He smiles, and playfully ruffles the top of Steeljaw’s helm. “Who’s been a good boy?” he asks, and Steeljaw immediately becomes excited.

Ohhhhhh he’s been patient and quiet and still and he hopes he’s the good boy! 

Steeljaw scoots closer so his helm his further into Thunderhoof’s lap. He looks up at his master hopefully.

Thunderhoof chuckles as he reaches into the box on the end table to retrieve a small candy treat for Steeljaw. “You eat too many of these,” he teases lightly, referencing Steeljaw’s slightly bulging midriff, but one more treat can’t hurt. “Alright, who’s a good boy? Who is?”

Steeljaw squirms, lifting his helm so he can take the treat when it’s actually offered. He’d be happy with a belly rub or more petting, but treats are always great! Finally, Thunderhoof puts the treat within his reach, and Steeljaw carefully takes it, chewing happily.

“Good boy!” Thunderhoof chuckles, leaning forward in his chair and using both servos now to tussle and pet Steeljaw’s ears. “Who’s my good boy?”

Grinning broadly, Steeljaw soaks up the praise. It makes all of his patience while his master read worth it. Slowly, Steeljaw sinks lower and lower to the floor, and eventually he flops over onto his back at Thunderhoof’s pedes. His master laughs, and leans down to rub his belly.

Thunderhoof smiles as Steeljaw goes limp below him, and he rubs his pet’s pudgy belly. “My good boy! Yes!”

* * *

I know this is a rare ship but I love them, so would it be alright to have "Do you want this? Why don't you beg for it, hm?" TFP Dom Bulkhead and Sub Breakdown please?

\----------

Breakdown huffs, tugging restlessly at his ankles. They’re securely cuffed to a spreader bar that’s in turn chained to the ceiling, leaving him partially suspended- his valve at the perfect height for the green Autobot to drop onto his knees and frag him. He pulls at the cuffs keeping his wrists locked to his thighs as well, but finds them just as sturdy. “Bulk-”

Bulkhead slips a single digit into Breakdown’s vulnerable valve. “Yeah?” he asks, not really expecting an answer as he lazily thrusts and curls his finger. He’s been working up Breakdown for a while now, and he’s nearly read to move on.

Servos grasping his own thighs, Breakdown tries to spread his legs further apart. “This- nnngh- this isn’t fair.”

“Hm, probably not,” Bulkhead smirks as he removes his finger and stands. He finally opens his own panel, letting his spike pressurize with a sigh of relief. It had started to become uncomfortable, but a few strokes of his servo soothe the ache and set Breakdown to squirming all over again.

“C’mon, Bulk,” Breakdown pants, licking his lips as his valve clenches. Bulkhead’s spike always fills him just the way he likes, but Bulkhead has never teased him like this-

“Do you want this? Why don’t you beg for it, hm?” Bulkhead taunts, feeling cheeky.

Groaning, Breakdown pulls at the cuffs on his ankles again. “Please, Bulkhead, c’mon, I- you’ve got me leaking. C’mon, just….just frag me already?”

“Heh, I like how you beg. It’s….you,” Bulkhead grins before he kneels down and uses a servo to line his spike up.

* * *

A rare ship of TRP Ultra Magus and Wheeljack with "Sneaky little one! When did you think of surprising me like this?" please.

\----------

Ultra Magnus quietly cycles his vents in a silent sigh. It’s been a……trying day, to say the least. A vehicon had been wounded while on construction duty, and that was enough for a small group of other vehicons (who hadn’t even witnessed what had occurred) to claim that the Autobots were being cruel and putting their brethren in unsafe situations. Nevermind that the wounded vehicon was trying to explain to his peers that it had been _his_ _own_ fault by not fully securing a beam.

Ratchet had received the vehicon via a space bridge for repairs, and Ultra Magnus had spent the majority of his evening trying to calm the small, irate group down. The situation hadn’t been resolved until another, larger group of vehicons had descended upon the scene and dragged the irrational mechs away, apologizing to Ultra Magnus. The Autobot commander had ensured the safety and ethical treatment of the troublemakers, set a meeting with the group for tomorrow once they’ve hopefully cooled off, and thanked the friendly vehicons.

All he wants now is to sit quietly at his desk until his shift is over. Maybe complete some of the forms on his desk and-

Ultra Magnus stops just inside his office, speechless.

Wheeljack cranes his neck around to smirk at Ultra Magnus. He’s bent over the desk, one leg up on the surface so his valve is more easily views with his aft pointed toward the door. “Hey, Magnus.”

Ultra Magnus is lost for words for several more moments before he clears his vocalizer. “What is this?” he asks, voice still filled with static.

Wheeljack laughs. “W-What does it look like?” he asks, a little breathless as he tilts his valve up for better inspection. It had taken some work, but he’d dug through enough demolished sex shops until he’d found a clear dildo of nearly ridiculous proportions. It’s currently occupying his valve, spreading it wide and letting Ultra Magnus see deep inside of him. “It’s a surprise for you. Heard you had a rough day.”

Ultra Magnus doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he slowly approaches the slightly trembling mech and gingerly traces the rim of Wheeljack’s straining valve, and he groans quietly. “Well aren’t you a sneaky little one. When did you think of surprising me like this?” he asks almost reverently. He’d been sure not to mention his love for overly-stretched valves and large toys, and he’d _certainly_ not mentioned that he’s nearly obsessed with peering inside of valves…

At that, Wheeljack chuckles breathlessly again. “One time we fragged the morning after a rough night, and you mentioned that you liked not having to stretch me out. And you always spread my valve and look inside when you’re eating me out. it just took me a while to find a way to accomplish those things at the same time. I….hope I guessed right?”

Rather than try to put is pleasure at Wheeljack’s choice of surprise into words, Ultra Magnus chooses instead to grasp the spread mech’s hips and grind his burning hot panel into Wheeljack’s aft with a moan instead.

“Heh, guess I did alright,” Wheeljack pants, arching his back so he can grind the base of the toy and his valve lips against Ultra Magnus’s panel as well.

“Perfect,” Ultra Magnus manages to force out before he releases his spike.

* * *

"How would you like to earn a reward?" TRPMegatron and Starscream

\----------

Starscream arches, grinding his nub against Megatron’s plating. “Yes! Master, _yes_!” he chants breathlessly, claws beginning to gouge into the berth. He’s almost-

Megatron pulls his spike free of his SIC’s valve, breathing heavily to cool his own frame.

Biting back a frustrated whine, Starscream clenches his denta. “Master please,” he groans.

“How would you like to earn a reward, Starscream?”

The seeker does whine this time, meets Megatron’s optics. “I- I haven’t moved my hands..! I-”

“I know,” Megatron interrupts, giving Starscream’s nub a quick rub. He’d ordered the slender mech to grasp the top edge of the berth and not let go, and Starscream has done just that. “You’ve been behaving, yes, but I asked if you’d like to earn a _reward_ ,” he repeats, punctuating his question by sliding a single digit into the bot’s valve. It pales in comparison to his spike, but Starscream gasps at the penetration all the same.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

Megatron smirks, and he feels Starscream’s valve clench around his digit.

* * *

Please may I have, Optimus saying "Move your hands to the side, I want to hear your moans." to Knockout. I love your drabbles, they're so good.

\----------

Quivering, Knock Out squeezes his knees against the Prime’s sides. He clamps both of his servos across his mouth as he arches up toward his partner.

Optimus holds still. It had taken some work, it always does, but their plating is finally flush. Knock Out’s valve is twitching and adjusting around him. “Move your hands to the side, I want to hear your moans.”

Knock Out gasps. The Prime’s deep voice makes him clench tightly so he feels even more full. “W-What about your troops?” he manages to whisper.

The Prime smiles, gently grinding his spike even deeper into Knock Out. “I believe they are already aware of what we are doing and have vacated he immediate area, Knock Out,” Optimus explains before he leans down to exhale hotly over his small partner’s audio sensor. “I would love to hear you, Knock Out,” he moans, hoping to rile Knock Out up.

If the way Knock Out’s frame quakes, his valve clenches, and he cries out are any indication, Optimus would have to say he’s successful.

* * *

I just read the Bd and Bh drabble and saw the tags saying that we need more of these two. So can I ask for one? "Don't cover your face, I want to see you." Bh to Bd

\----------

With a huff, Bulkhead’s blunt digits grasp at the ledge of Breakdown’s chest for leverage, and he’s able to thrust harder into the blue mech.

Breakdown moans and tosses his arm over his face, hiding in the crook of his elbow. “Frag, Bulk!”

Bulkhead moves one servo up to tap on the offending arm. “Don’t cover your face, I want to see you.”

Without replying right away, Breakdown hooks a leg around Bulkhead’s wide, green hips. “Why? _Harder_.”

Instead, Bulkhead slows down until he’s barely moving. “Arm first, then hard,” he bargains, smirking.

Breakdown growls, but obliges by moving his arm and slapping it down next to his side. 

Bulkhead smiles, and briefly touches Breakdown’s red faceplates before he re-grasps his chest and starts delivering the hard frag Breakdown had asked for.

* * *

I was wondering if you could do a steeljaw/bumblebee fic like maybe bee goes out for a joy ride and he gets attacked by steeljaw *who's been in hiding since the final battle in season 1* they start fighting but then things turn steamy

\----------

Bumblebee doesn’t have time to think about how the plating that forms the roof of his alt mode is aching. He’d been racing through the forest surrounding the junkyard, itching for more speed, until Steeljaw had landed on his roof and sent him tumbling.

Bumblebee had managed to transform and skid to a stop, but the Decepticon didn’t let up. He’d leaped at the scout, fangs bared.

When they rolled to a stop, Steeljaw was on top. He’s managed to pin one of Bumblebee’s arms, but the other nearly lands a punch on his jaw. The wolfcon quickly snatches the offending limb and likewise pins it to the ground.

“I want you to release-”

Bumblebee struggles, uninterested in what Steeljaw says. They can’t release a prisoner just because-

Steeljaw growls loudly, bearing his dentae.

Vents stuttering, Bumblebee freezes beneath the bulkier Decepticon.

Steeljaw freezes, staring down at the Autobot. Bumblebee squirms, but it’s not a struggle, and he’s not imagining how the bot’s cooling system hiccups before resuming at an increased rate. “Well well well, what do we have here?” he asks, leaning in to get right in the Autobot’s face.

“W-What? I’m not releasing anyone for you.”

Steeljaw smirks and leans back, but he doesn’t release his grip on Bumblebee’s arms. “Hmm, I supposed you won’t, but that still leaves you at my mercy, doesn’t it, Autobot?” he asks, dropping his voice to a lower pitch, and it earns him another restless twitch from the former scout and another hitch in his vents.

“Just what do you want, then?” Bumblebee asks, swallowing thickly. He’d never try to deny that he found Steeljaw attractive, and being pinned down while the does such lovely things with his voice? No one could blame Bumblebee for getting a bit revved, but this is still _Steeljaw_.

“Maybe we can work something out, Autobot,” he suggests slyly, grinding his aft down into Bumblebee panel.

Bumblebee chokes in surprise before he makes another effort to pull himself free, only to have Steeljaw growl at him again. “We can part ways amicably, Steeljaw. Pretend this never happENED!” his voice rises when Steeljaw shifts atop his panel again, grinding pleasantly. “Steeljaw!” he nearly squeaks.

“Mmmm,” Steeljaw hums, letting his optics partially close. “Oh, I think we can do better than ‘amicable,’ Autobot. I certainly do like how you…..squeal my name.”

“My name is Bumblebee and I didn’t squeal-!”

Steeljaw leans down to nuzzle into the Autobot’s neck. “Close enough,” he chuckles. “I haven’t called my team, and I’m guessing you haven’t called yours, either. Why not? It’s obvious you’re having ideas in that helm of yours, _Bumblebee_ ,” he persuades the bot, dropping his voice again to practically purr the Autobot’s name.

Bumblebee fails to stifle the static-filled gasp that escapes him, and he tilts his helm back to expose his neck before he can think better of it. Maybe…..he can postpone the rest of his joyride, right? His team is at the junkyard keeping guard, and- Steeljaw’s fangs brush against his neck, and logic leaves him with a strangled moan.


End file.
